


All We Have Is Now

by Itneveroccurredtomeatall



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Big Finish, Cardiff, F/M, Major Illness, Rain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25723312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itneveroccurredtomeatall/pseuds/Itneveroccurredtomeatall
Summary: Yvonne is hiding something from Andy.That, in itself, is nothing new and he shouldn't be surprised. She's always kept secrets from him. But this time something's different. He has the sinking feeling that something is really, really wrong....
Relationships: Andy Davidson/Yvonne Hartman, Colin Colchester-Price/Mr. Colchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where this is going to go, but I really love Yvonne and Andy together. Before Big Finish put them together, I'd never even thought about them together, but somehow they work really well together ?!? I also love both of them on their own and they're such different people so I guess it makes sense!<3
> 
> I'll update the tags as I go and feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions! 
> 
> ((As a warning, I'm currently planning for Yvonne to be pretty ill for part of this.))

Andy Davidson stared at the clock intently, watching the second hand tick and waiting for his shift to end. 

It had been a slow day so far. Desk duty had never been his favorite thing and he’d thought he’d left it behind him once he’d been promoted, but Angelica had called out sick today and Clara had brought up how skilled he’d been at manning the phones and how everyone had been immediately comfortable with talking to him when he’d been a PC and on desk duty and Andy had found himself flattered into subbing in for Angelica. 

Finally, the second hand passed the 12 and he pressed the Make Busy button twice to log out of the phone and pushed his chair back from the desk.

“Got somewhere important to be, Andy?” Brad said with an amused smile on his face. 

“I’ve uh gotta pick up my… uhm… Yvonne,” Andy said as he reached for his jacket and keys. 

Brad laughed. “Your… uhm… Yvonne?” He teased. “You’ve been seeing each other for ages and you still can’t call her your girlfriend?” 

Andy flushed as he shrugged on his jacket. “We haven’t really talked about it,” he muttered.

“So it’s complicated, is it?” 

“Yeah…. I mean, no. I like her a lot and she likes me a lot and we get on well. We go out. That’s always fun. We stay in and that’s pretty fun, too. We’re a bit, I guess you could say “domestic” now. It’s all very- hang on a minute….” Andy glanced sharply over to Brad. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this! It’s none of your business!” 

Brad just laughed in response. “Well, have a nice night with your… uhm… Yvonne. Go be “domestic” together and don’t have too much fun.” 

“Ta,” Andy muttered as he opened the door. “Have a good night, Brad.” 

He made his way to his car and began the drive to the hospital. 

Yvonne had gotten off work early to go to a doctor’s appointment and he’d offered to pick her up afterward so they could go back to hers for the night. He’d packed his overnight bag in the morning, though he wasn’t sure he really needed it anymore. It seemed that every time he spent the night at hers, something of his stayed behind so he probably had enough clothes in Yvonne’s flat to last at least a month, but he didn’t want to draw her attention to that fact. Maybe she hadn’t noticed yet that he’d partially moved in and he didn’t want her to tell him that the number of his things at her flat was getting entirely ridiculous and that he should move some of it out. So he’d packed his overnight bag that morning with pajamas and a change of clothes as always.

The traffic was bad. It always was this time of day, but Andy could have sworn it had gotten exponentially worse these past few years. Cardiff was bustling. And he always thought it was nice to see signs of how the city had come alive, except when it wasn’t and he was constantly stuck sitting in traffic that hadn’t existed a few years ago.

He finally made it to the hospital and pulled up outside the front door. He was surprised to see that Yvonne wasn’t waiting for him, but he drove the car into the lot and parked. 

He turned on the radio as he waited and gazed absentmindedly out the window as he tapped his fingers along to the beat of the music. 

A few songs went by. He only recognized one of them, but he rather liked the second song and added it to his Spotify playlist before frowning when he noted the time on his phone. Yvonne was running later than he’d ever seen her be to anything. 

Just as he was about to send her a text to ask where she was, he spotted her coming out of the hospital’s front doors. 

He set his phone down, unlocked the doors, and watched her make her way across the parking lot. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Yvonne said as she opened the passenger door and slipped into the passenger seat. 

“Dim problem,” Andy replied. 

She shut the door, placed her bag at her feet, and buckled her seatbelt before looking over to him. “You haven’t been waiting for too long, have you?” 

Andy shook his head. “Just got here,” he lied. 

She smiled as he started to pull out of the parking spot. “I’m glad.”

“Your appointment went on a bit long, didn’t it?” Andy asked casually. 

“I already said I was sorry,” Yvonne said, a little peeved. 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Sorry.” Andy turned out of the parking lot and onto a main road. “I was just wondering if there was any particular reason or-” 

Yvonne sighed. “If you must know, I was scheduling a follow-up appointment in a few weeks.” 

“A follow-up appointment? What for?” 

“To follow-up,” Yvonne said curtly. 

“Yeah, I know, obviously. But what for?” 

“To go over some test results,” Yvonne replied. 

“Test results?”

“Oh, Andy. I’m… flattered that you’re worried about me, but, honestly, it’s fine. Routine. Nothing to worry about,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Yeah?” 

She could tell he wasn’t going to let this go. Damn him and his persistence. 

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “I’m a woman. In my fifties. Menopause is-” 

“Right, right, of course. Sorry. Wasn’t thinking. How was the rest of your day? Any new aliens moving into Cardiff that I should know about?” 

Yvonne frowned at the abrupt change in subject. His blush was a little endearing, but also a little frustrating. Surely the fact that women went through menopause was not new to him. And, even though it was a lie, she felt a little offended at his embarrassment, but she let it go. He didn’t mean anything by it and she didn’t want him pushing any further into how her appointment had gone. 

“It was fine. I’m happy to report that no new aliens have moved into Cardiff today,” she said. “That we know of, anyway. How was your day?” 

“Boring, if I’m being honest,” Andy said. “Angelica called in sick and they asked me to fill in for her on desk duty.” 

Yvonne shot him a sympathetic smile, knowing how much he hated desk duty despite how good he was at it. “I’m sure you loved that.”

“Hmmm…” Andy said absentmindedly. “Well, Angelica will owe me one. I’m thinking maybe we could take a weekend away? Whenever things are a little slow over at Torchwood….” 

Yvonne smiled. “That would be lovely.” 


	2. Chapter 2

It turned out that the next week was rather slow on the whole at Torchwood. On Monday, there had been a tiny Rift spike, but nothing noteworthy had come through. Nothing on Tuesday. Wednesday night, there’d been reports of something suspicious in Bute Park so Norton and Jack had gone off and came back with a sedated weevil thirty minutes later. On Thursday, the most action of the day had involved Jack and Mr. Colchester arguing rather heatedly over whether it was better to heat up leftover mac and cheese in the microwave or in a pot on the stove and Yvonne had decided that they could handle whatever happened on Friday without her.

She sent off a text to Andy. **Can you take tomorrow off?**

  
The reply came a few minutes later. **Yes. Why?**

**Things have been a little slow at Torchwood… seems like a good time for that weekend away. I’ll arrange everything. Take tomorrow off. I’ll come over to yours for dinner so we can discuss?**

**Done. I’ll pick up some takeout?**

**Please - maybe some Italian?**

**See u soon x**

Yvonne smiled to herself as she set down her phone and returned to work. 

“I’m taking tomorrow off,” she announced near the end of the day once she’d booked and confirmed the hotel and restaurants. “Ng, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

Ng nodded. 

“Big weekend plans?” Jack waggled an eyebrow at her. 

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Yvonne said. “So don’t call me unless the world is ending.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Jack saluted her with a wide grin on his face. “Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your “special time” with a certain Sergeant Andy Davidson, would we? Although, come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind being in that bed.” 

Yvonne cast a withering glare at Jack. “For a man of such a, shall we say, distinguished age, you’re awfully immature.” 

“Yes, Harkness,” Mr. Colchester said. “It’s truly astonishing how juvenile you are. What Ms. Hartman does on her days off is none of your business.” 

“Thank you, St. John.” 

“But you’re definitely doing Andy at least once this weekend, right?” Jack said. 

Yvonne pointedly ignored him as she swept around the Hub gathering her things. 

“What’s this I hear about someone “doing” our dearest Andy this weekend?” Norton walked in through the cog wheel door. 

“Yvonne’s taking tomorrow off,” Ng said. 

“To do Andy,” Jack stage-whispered across the Hub. 

“I’ll be in charge while she’s gone.” Ng cast a dark look at Jack who merely shrugged and offered her a pearly white smile. 

“I’ve come to relieve St. John for the night,” Norton said as he slipped off his suit jacket, which was slightly damp from the Cardiff rain, and draped it over the back of a chair at a computer bank to dry. 

“Wonderful,” Mr. Colchester said as he crossed the Hub. 

“Alright, now that everything’s sorted, St. John and I are leaving,” Yvonne said as she reached for her umbrella. She’d quickly learned that Cardiff was significantly wetter than London and had made a point of stocking umbrellas in the Hub, her car, her flat, and Andy’s place. “I trust that everything will be fine until Monday. If it isn’t, you know how to reach me.”

Together, Yvonne and Mr. Colchester left the Hub through the cog wheel door. 

“Any plans for tonight, St. John?” Yvonne asked as they crossed through the deserted tourist’s office. 

“A quiet night in with Colin, I believe,” he replied. “I think we have a Strictly on the DVR.”

“Sounds lovely.” 

“And you?” He held the tourist office’s front door open for her. 

“A weekend in London with Andy.” She stepped out into the rain and opened the umbrella. Mr. Colchester followed her, turning back to lock the door. 

“How charming,” Mr. Colchester said. 

“Indeed,” Yvonne said. 

Mr. Colchester tested the door and, once he confirmed that it was locked, shoved the key back in his pocket. 

“I’m parked in that car park,” Mr. Colchester said as he gestured in the general direction of Mermaid Quay Car Park. 

“Then I guess this is where we part ways,” Yvonne said with a smile. “I’m in the Q-Park Cardiff Bay Car Park. Tell Colin I said hello.”

Mr. Colchester nodded. “And tell Andy the same.” 

“Have a good weekend, St. John.” 

“Have a good weekend, Yvonne.” 

The two parted ways, each heading to a different car park. 

Yvonne walked quickly through the rain to the car park, grateful that her heels at least kept her feet elevated above the water that was starting to pool on the pavement. The rain was coming down hard and at an angle and she could feel the umbrella straining under the wind’s force so she collapsed it. 

By the time Yvonne had reached the car park, she was soaked. She took a few minutes to dry herself off as best as she could with the spare towel she’d taken to keeping in her trunk for occasions such as this before getting into the driver’s seat, starting the car, blasting the heat, and turning the seat warmer on. 


	3. Chapter 3

Andy had just finished pouring two glasses of wine when the front door opened. 

Yvonne walked in, dripping rain water onto the floor. 

They’d exchanged spare keys to each other’s places and cars a few months ago after mutually deciding that it was completely ridiculous to have to ring the doorbell and wait to be let in any time they wanted to visit each other.

“Antonio’s?” She said upon spying the steaming food on the table. She shut the door and slipped off her shoes. 

Andy nodded. “Seemed like a good choice.” 

He’d not-so-subtly slipped her name over the phone when he’d requested take out. Generally, Antonio’s was not the sort of place to offer such a service (they were the sort of restaurant that insisted the atmosphere really helped make the food what it was) but the instant he’d said _Yvonne Hartman_ the man on the other end of the line had told him the food would be ready in twenty-five minutes and the bill would be added to Yvonne’s tab. 

They’d had that first date at Antonio’s the first day they’d met. Yvonne had called a favor to get a table at the last minute and Andy had been impressed, though he’d tried to hide it. He knew that no matter how hard he worked, that even if he one day managed to become a Chief Constable in Cardiff, he’d never be able to call in a favor to get the best table for dinner at Antonio’s on the same day. People generally had to book months in advance for even the worst table for lunch.

They’d talked. Some of it had been about work. About Serena disappearing. About why Yvonne would be running Torchwood instead of Jack and why she would be liaising with the police.

And some of it had been more mundane. They’d talked about their travel bucket lists, complained about the lack of parking in the city centre, and predicted when the next sunny day would come along. It’d been lovely. 

As the meal came to an end, Yvonne had invited him back to hers. _For dessert_ , she’d said as she met his eyes across the table. _If you want._ And Andy, being just a little smitten with her and more than a little turned on ( _it had been a while…_ ) had followed her back to her flat for one of the best nights of his life. 

“Mind if I shower?” Yvonne asked.

Andy shook his head. “Be my guest.”

She crossed the foyer and entered the kitchen to give him a quick peck on the lips before heading up the stairs to the bathroom. 

Andy finished setting the table and sat down to wait for Yvonne. 

After a few minutes, the water started running so he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his Facebook feed. 

Yvonne hated Facebook. She hated most of the internet, to be fair, and didn’t understand why people would put the mundanities of their lives out there for everyone else in the world to see for all of time. So Andy tried to limit his time on the app to when she wasn’t around to snidely comment on the crumbling state of humanity.

But Andy had always liked Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Myspace when it had been big… the whole lot. They had their uses and he liked keeping up with people. For example, he could see that Gwen, Rhys, and Anwen had gone on a walk in the countryside earlier that day without having to talk to Gwen or Rhys directly. 

And then there were other pieces of information he’d probably never have known if not for the app. A teenage boy from Splott had been missing since early Tuesday morning and his cousin had created a post that had gone viral. A small, family-run kebab shop was hosting a fundraiser to send their oldest child to Cardiff University to study business and they’d already collected nearly half the year’s tuition. There was planned roadwork on Westgate Street next month. There was a two-for-one deal on 6-pack burger buns at Sainsbury’s. 

Andy was so caught up in his Facebook feed that he didn’t realize Yvonne had finished in the shower until she was slipping into the seat across from him at the table. 

“Hello,” he said as he hastily shoved his phone in his pocket. “Nice shower?” 

“Hello,” she replied with a small smile, “and yes. A well-deserved one after all that rain.” 

He suppressed a grin when he realized she was wrapped in his bathrobe despite the drawer full of her clothes and pajamas - her nice, silky pajamas - in his bedroom. 

He never would have suspected it, but she was the sort of person who liked to remove her makeup and change into pajamas or something equally comfortable the instant she got home from work. 

“It was rather wet today,” he agreed. 

“Thanks for picking up dinner.” She grabbed the serving spoon and helped herself to a serving of spaghetti before passing him the spoon. He added some pasta to his own plate. 

He reached for his wine glass. “Cheers,” he said as he held it up. 

She held her own up and they gently clinked glasses. 

“Cheers,” she replied before taking a sip. 

Andy did the same. He still wasn’t terribly fond of wine. He was definitely more of a basic pint sort of guy, but Yvonne had started bringing over wine bottles that probably cost the same as his monthly rent and leaving them in his pantry so he’d started to become more of a wine man since they’d been seeing each other. 

Andy reached for the parmesan cheese and shook a decent amount on top of his pasta while Yvonne didn’t quite succeed at hiding her disapproval. 

Andy may have become more of a wine man than a pint man, but he’d never not be a shake parmesan cheese man,

 _That’s not cheese, Andrew,_ she’d said the first time she’d caught him dumping a large amount of shake parmesan cheese on top of his pasta. 

_‘Course it is_ , he’d said as he’d continued to shake tiny crumbs of parmesan cheese onto his plate. _Says so on the container._

_If you’re so desperate for parmesan cheese,_ she’d argued, _buy a block and use a grater._

The next time she’d come over for dinner, she’d rather aggressively plopped a block of imported parmesan cheese from Italy and a gleaming cheese grater down on the middle of the table. 

He’d used the grater that night and it had been sitting in the back of a cupboard ever since. 

“Busy day?” Yvonne asked after taking her first few bites of pasta. 

Andy shook his head. “Just the usual. A few parking tickets. Some speeding on the A48.” 

“Hmm…” 

“You?” 

Andy always loved hearing about the goings-on at Torchwood. Even though he’d known about their existence for years, even though he’d had a working relationship with Torchwood on and off for over a decade and had had his fair share of run-ins with aliens, the things Yvonne told him about her day always captured his attention like nothing else. 

Until tonight. 

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” he repeated. 

“Nothing noteworthy,” she corrected. “Unless your idea of noteworthy is Jack Harkness and St. John Colchester arguing about the best way to reheat mac and cheese.” 

“In the microwave,” Andy said without a moment’s hesitation.

Yvonne snorted. “You would say that,” she said, but she couldn’t quite hide the fondness in her voice. 

“I take it you're a stove person, then?” He shoved another bite of spaghetti into his mouth.

“I don’t heat up leftovers, but if, for some reason, I had to, I’d do it on a stove.” 

“I expected nothing less of you,” Andy said with a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “So… tell me about this weekend you’ve got planned for us.”

“I’ve booked us a room at Four Seasons Hotel London, the Park Lane one, and made reservations for us Friday afternoon at the spa,” Yvonne replied. “I’ve also made some dinner reservations at La Dame de Pic, Umu, and Aquavit. We can stop by your favorite chippy for lunch one day. Other than that, we can be flexible.”

“Sounds lovely,” Andy said, already imagining picking up a steaming container of fish and chips in that little red and white checkered to-go container they used and taking a relaxing stroll with Yvonne through Regent’s Park, finding a bench, and sitting down to enjoy the fish and chips together. 

Even though Yvonne would never admit it, Andy knew she loved that chippy more than any of those Michelin-starred restaurants. There was a sort of joy in her eyes when she ate chips from that chippy that he’d never seen while they’d been eating at the fancy restaurants in London. 

Or Cardiff, for that matter. Not that Cardiff had many Michelin-starred restaurants. If Andy was remembering correctly, there was exactly one Michelin-starred restaurant in the city and less than ten in all of Wales. 

He also vaguely wondered exactly what Yvonne’s salary was at Torchwood. How high must it be to allow her to eat out at Michelin-starred restaurants in London three nights in a row? To stay at what he assumed was a very nice and expensive hotel and, well, to live in what was probably one of the nicest flats in all of Cardiff? Her balcony had a wonderful view and the space was large, modern, and incredibly well-furnished - so well-furnished that Andy was still a little paranoid about spilling anything anywhere in her flat - and the complex even had a doorman who always seemed a tad suspicious of Andy coming around. 

But money was something they never really talked about. In general, it was a given that Yvonne would be picking up the bill any time they went out. Though he’d been surprised a few times when a bill hadn’t come and their meal had been _on the house, on behalf of the owner_ , according to their servers. 

At first he’d felt a little put out by it all. Several of his friends had teased him when they’d found out he was seeing Yvonne and had heard about the somewhat expensive places they’d dined at that she’d always paid for. And it had bothered him. A lot more than he liked to admit. 

Andy blamed all the romcoms he’d watched with his mother every Thursday night growing up. In every single one of them, the man had paid for dinner. The men would pay and sweep the women off their feet and everything would be okay in the end. Of course, he knew that all of that was ridiculous and outdated. And, yet, that lesson had been drilled into his head over the years and it had managed to stick. 

But he’d since accepted that he and Yvonne each brought different things to the relationship and one of Yvonne’s things was money. And a lot of it. 

And sometimes Andy bought dinner. Mind you, only when they decided to stop at the Chinese takeaway place at the end of his road or the kebab shop near hers. Or on her birthday.

But, between the two of them, he was the only one who ever cooked dinner from scratch. 

“We could do with a long weekend away,” Yvonne said, snapping Andy out of his thoughts.

Andy nodded in agreement. “Torchwood will be fine without you, then?” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t leave if Torchwood wouldn’t be fine. I trust Ng, Orr, and St. John. The rest....” she snorted, “well, I trust Ng, Orr, and St. John to keep them in line.” 

“And?” Andy prompted, knowing that it wasn’t like Yvonne to leave them alone without a contingency plan. 

The last time they’d gone away for a weekend, they hadn’t gone very far. Not that London was really that far either. But it was farther than the Brecon Beacons where they’d camped for a weekend. 

Andy had been surprised when Yvonne suggested it, but it turned out that there had been some unusual activity in the mountains, someone had to investigate, and Yvonne had recently promised Andy a weekend away. But even then when they had been less than fifty miles away from Cardiff, Yvonne had created a detailed plan of how to get back to the Hub as fast as humanly possible should anything more important come up.

“And,” Yvonne continued with a slight smile on her face, “I’ve got a helicopter on speed dial. If anything goes wrong, I can be back in under an hour.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I hope that you enjoy it! :) Hopefully the next chapter will come faster and be a little longer!

“A little deeper, if you would,” Yvonne muttered as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Of course, ma’am.” 

Andy and Yvonne were lying side by side getting a couple’s massage in the hotel’s spa. They had left Cardiff earlier that morning and arrived in London in time for lunch at the hotel’s restaurant and their afternoon spa reservation. 

And, for Yvonne, this was heaven. Firm hands worked out the even firmer knots in her back and meditative music drifted in one ear and out the other. She was finally able to relax. No aliens threatening to overrun Cardiff. No Cardiff. No Jack Harkness flapping around in that blasted coat of his. No worries about whether the restaurant they were siphoning power from had turned on the ovens yet. Bliss. 

Andy, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so sure about the whole  _ having-strangers-touch-you-while-you-lay-naked-beneath-a-towel _ thing. But Yvonne seemed to be enjoying it, based on the sounds she was making, so he figured he’d put up with it. Besides, this was London. He’d probably never see his masseuse again. At least, he hoped not. 

That might be more than just a little embarrassing because his back had made an awful cracking sound the instant she’d first put any pressure on it. And now all of Yvonne’s sighs and moans were starting to get to him into an even more embarrassing situation. All in all, Andy thought that getting a massage with Yvonne while naked was a recipe for disaster.

Somehow, he made it through the rest of the massage session without embarrassing himself any further and he and Yvonne returned to their room to unpack and get ready for dinner. 

“Which one are we going to tonight, again?” Andy asked as he unzipped his suitcase. 

“Aquavit,” Yvonne replied as she started hanging her clothes in the wardrobe. “It’s Scandinaviant and just over a mile away. I was thinking we could walk.” 

“So, this will be fine?” 

Andy held up a pair of black trousers and a white button-down shirt for her approval. 

Yvonne glanced over her shoulder. “Even when you’re not on the job, you still dress like you are.” 

“I mean, I have a blue-” 

“No, no, I like it.” She smiled. “A lot.” 

“Oh. Good.” Andy blushed as he remembered exactly the first time it had become clear exactly how much Yvonne liked him in full uniform with the vest, hat, and handcuffs. “That’s good.”

He busied himself with getting dressed and by the time he had finished buttoning up his shirt, Yvonne had already changed into a black dress, put on earrings, and slipped on her heels. 

“Zip me up?”

“‘Course.” Andy crossed the room as she turned around. 

Carefully, he zipped the dress and hooked the closure at the top. It felt strangely intimate for something so mundane. He stepped back once he had finished.

Yvonne turned around. “Thank you,” she said before stepping forward, closing the gap between them, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him.

Andy had kissed several women throughout his life. There had been the sweet, innocent first kisses back in school, the passionate kisses as he’d gotten older, the sloppy kisses when he’d gotten more than a little tipsy. But nothing quite compared to kissing Yvonne. It was cliché and stupid and he’d never tell anyone, not even Yvonne, but there was some sort of spark, an energy that ran through him whenever they kissed. 

After a few moments, she slowly pulled back.

“We should go,” she said and Andy nodded. 

Yvonne grabbed a small, black handbag while Andy grabbed the hotel key off the dresser and placed it in his wallet which he slipped into his pocket. 

Together, they took the elevator down to the lobby and stepped into the crisp evening air. 

“Is it good to be back?” Andy asked as they walked down the street. 

Yvonne nodded. “Cardiff is… fine. But London is home.” 

“Hmm….” 

Andy himself had never been particularly comfortable in London. Sure, he liked it. It was London. The capital. The city that a good chunk of his friends had moved to in order to chase their dreams before being chased out by rising rent prices and careers that never went as far as they’d hoped. 

He could see why Yvonne loved it. It was bustling, somewhat corporate, very anonymous, and racing toward the future at a much faster rate than Cardiff was. The people were more Yvonne-esque. They were driven, well-dressed, and successful. Not everyone, of course, but London people seemed to be a different species than Cardiff people. 

Andy imagined that the people in London aged faster. Time passed more quickly and everyone was rushing everywhere, looking for any way to get ahead of the next person.

They walked the rest of the way to the restaurant in a comfortable silence, with the exception of the sound of cars speeding by. Well, speeding as best as they could in London’s traffic.

At some point during the walk, they’d started holding hands. Andy couldn’t remember when it had started or who had initiated it, but it was nice. Andy also couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy and relaxed.

Dinner was nice, too. The restaurant was posh and the food was pretty good, if a little strange, at least to Andy. Yvonne didn’t seem phased by it. 

Andy’s palette had always been horribly simple. Sandwiches, pasta, fish, chips, steak, potatoes, kebabs, pizza, Nutella, and Chinese takeaways made up 95% of his diet. 

Once they’d finished eating and Yvonne had paid, they began the walk back to the hotel with Andy carrying Yvonne’s small, black bag. 

It was dark now, but there were still plenty of people out and about, heading home from dinner, home from a long day at work, or out to the bars and clubs or night shifts. 

“Andy?” 

“Hmm?” He slowed his pace and met her gaze. 

“How would you feel about extending our evening out and going to a bar?” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been to two bars in my life. One was a sports bar and the other was standing room only and packed so tightly that you could hardly move while the line for drinks went out the door. So they were definitely not at all like a fancy bar in London :)

The bar they ended up in could be considered high-end. At least compared to Cardiff’s bars. It was on the way back to the hotel and didn’t have music blasting out the front doors so Andy and Yvonne decided it would do.

Yvonne turned to Andy and took her bag back as they entered the bar. “Why don’t you grab a seat and I’ll get the drinks?” 

It was technically a question, but, at the same time, it was an order and Andy knew Yvonne well enough to simply nod and agree. 

“I’ll be over there.” He gestured to one section of the bar and then wandered off in that direction, scouting for an empty booth or table. 

Yvonne made her way toward the bar and waited to catch the bartender’s attention. He seemed quite busy and, for once, she had nowhere to go and nothing to do, so she decided to wait until he came over on his own. 

“Can I buy you a drink, luv?” 

Yvonne turned to see a man practically leering at her as he leaned towards her, his expression more than a little predatory. 

“Don’t call me  _ luv  _ and no,” she said scornfully, “you can’t buy me a drink.”

The man frowned and leaned backward. “Alright, then.” 

She turned away from him and observed the others at the bar while she waited. A young girl, possibly too young to be at a bar, was perched on a stool and occasionally stirring her drink, her eyes darting around furtively every few seconds. A man with a single rose was waiting at the bar, alternating between looking down at his phone and turning his attention to the door. 

Yvonne caught sight of Andy, who had settled into an empty booth and was now staring at his phone with a slight smile on his face. He must have sensed someone watching him for he looked up, met Yvonne’s eyes, and flashed her a smile which she found herself returning. They held eye contact for a few moments before Yvonne turned away, resuming her scan of the crowded bar. 

Eventually, the bartender came over and Yvonne placed her and Andy’s drink orders.

“Are you here with someone?” The same man from before said as she waited for the drinks. “Or are you just looking to get pissed tonight?” 

Yvonne sighed, knowing he was talking to her, steeled herself, and turned back to the man. “Not that it’s  _ any _ of your business at all, but I am here with someone,” she said coldly. 

“Hmm… of course you are. A pretty-”

Thankfully, the bartender returned and placed three drinks in front of Yvonne (one for Andy, two for her), interrupting the man in the process. 

“That will be thirty-two pounds,” he told her. 

Yvonne pulled her wallet from her bag and handed over the cash.

“Thank you.” 

Yvonne gathered the drinks and made her way across the bar to the booth Andy was sitting in. She set their drinks down and slid into the booth opposite him. 

“Ta,” he said with a smile before taking a sip of his drink. 

Yvonne nodded and took several sips of hers. 

“So… a bar,” Andy said, his eyes lighting up as he set his glass down on the table between them. “This is new.” 

Generally, whenever they went out in Cardiff, they didn’t go to bars. There was never a specific reason why. Just, if there was a choice between two places, they’d always end up at the place that wasn’t a bar. 

It was probably for the best. And, come to think of it, there probably was a reason they never ended up in bars in Cardiff together. Andy tended to avoid most bars in Cardiff. Since becoming a police officer, he’d had to fine several bars some pretty hefty amounts for letting underage kids drink. Somehow it didn’t feel right to go in and buy a pint anymore. There were still a few bars he could go to without feeling a sense of hostility from the owners, but those bars were quite a ways away from his place and he hated having to pay for an Uber to drive him across town when he was too drunk to make it back. And getting back to his car the day after a night out was also a hassle. So, far more often than not, Andy tended to stick to drinking at his or Yvonne’s place. Less of a hassle. Less hostility. Better company.

But going out with Yvonne to a bar in London where he didn’t know anyone and wouldn’t have to worry about where his car was parked? This was fine. This was perfect. 

“Seemed like a nice night to go for a drink,” Yvonne said. 

Andy nodded in agreement. “What is this?” he asked, gesturing to his drink.

“A craft beer,” Yvonne informed him. “I thought you might like it, but, if you’d rather try-”

“No, no, it’s good. It’s great, actually,” Andy said and Yvonne could tell that he meant it. “How’s yours?” 

“Fine,” she said with a shrug. 

And, over the next few rounds of drinks, they continued their conversations from dinner and started new ones. 

“If you weren’t…  _ Torchwood _ ,” Andy lowered his voice and then raised it again, “what would you be doing now? I mean, if you were to quit tonight, what would you do? Where would you go? Or if you were never involved in  _ Torchwood _ , what would you be doing right now? Well, either, I guess. Both.” 

Yvonne smiled and took another sip of her drink as Andy fumbled for the right words. Though she had been drinking two drinks to every one of his, it was Andy who was showing signs of being drunk first. 

“I suppose I’d be in the army, like my parents, if I had never joined Torchwood,” she said finally, after thinking about it for a moment. “If I were to quit tonight…” she trailed off. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.” 

“You’ve never thought about it?” Andy said incredulously. “Not even once? What if you won the lottery tomorrow?”

“I’m not in it for the money,” Yvonne replied firmly. “Winning the lottery wouldn’t change anything.”

“No, no, of course not. I didn’t mean- I know you care about your work. About fulfilling your duty. And everything…. But have you never, not even  _ once _ , thought about doing something else with your life? Anything else?” Andy prodded. 

Yvonne shook her head and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “And what about you? I’ve heard the stories about how you used to practically beg Gwen for a job," she said defensively. "If I were to offer you a job right now, would you take it?” 

“Well… yes,” Andy said. “Are you offering me a job?” There was a slightly hopeful tinge in his voice. 

“No,” Yvonne said flatly as she tried to ignore the flash of hurt that appeared in his eyes. She didn’t want to reject him. Not really. Not with that kicked puppy look he was giving her. But they were both well on their way to being a little drunk and it was true: she wasn’t offering him a job. If she had it her way, he’d stay far away from Torchwood. 

“Andy, it’s not that I don’t think you’d be good at it. You would be. You’d be wonderful. Truly. I just- perhaps this is selfish, but I don’t want you to be at Torchwood.”

“Oh, is it a work/life separation thing? Because I wouldn’t let our personal relationship affect our working relationship, promise,” Andy said earnestly. "It would be strictly professional at work."

Yvonne shook her head. “It’s not that.” Though that certainly would have been an easier problem to navigate. Skirting around the no-relationships-at-work policy which had long ago been thrown at the window at Torchwood would be a non-issue. She took a deep breath. “You’re good and you’re kind and Torchwood warps even the best of us. I just want you to be _you_.” 

Andy frowned at that. “How do you know? How do you know that working for Torchwood will change me?” 

“Because it changes everyone,” Yvonne said simply. “And, even if it didn’t, joining is signing a death warrant. Gwen is an exceedingly rare case. Every other past member of Torchwood Three in the past twenty-five years or so has died and Torchwood One lost around eight-hundred people in a single day.”

“Torchwood One had  _ eight-hundred _ people?” Andy was stunned. Torchwood Three always seemed to be barely hanging on with anywhere between one and six members.

“According to the files,” Yvonne confirmed. “I fully expect to die working for Torchwood.”

Andy frowned. “Surely not,” he said. “I mean, what about your pension? What happens when you’re old enough to withdraw it?” 

Yvonne snorted. “That’s a long way off, Andy. I’m already far past the average lifespan, both in years of life and years of service, of a Torchwood Three operative, excluding Jack, of course.” 

“You’re making it sound like it’s only a matter of time before you-” 

“Well, it is!” Yvonne snapped back. "I highly doubt I'll ever be old enough to withdraw my pension." 

“Yeah but you’re you!” Andy said fiercely, as if being her would be enough to fend off death.

“That’s flattering, Andy, but I’m going to die working for Torchwood, if I have any say in it. So let’s revisit Torchwood another day,” Yvonne said. “I promise we can have a long, thorough conversation about your… involvement once we’re back in Cardiff.” 

Andy nodded in agreement. “Alright.” 

“Alright.” Yvonne finished off her first drink and started on the second. “Where do you see yourself?” she asked finally. 

Andy shrugged. “Well, I kind of hoped I’d still be with you,” he admitted. 

And wasn’t that something? 

Yvonne smiled, leaned across the table, and kissed him gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should come out a little faster! :)


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the night passed in a blur of drinks, laughter, and the occasional kiss. Neither Andy nor Yvonne were particularly big on public displays of affection but perhaps the anonymity that came with being in London mixed with the alcohol had lowered their guards. They ended up staying until the bar was closing for the night. 

“I’ll call a cab then, shall I?” Andy asked as they stumbled out of the bar arm in arm.

“It’s only a few blocks,” Yvonne said. “And the fresh air has already done wonders for my sobriety.” 

Together, they began to walk back to the hotel, making light conversation along the way.

“How’s your mother? Well, your  _ other you _ ’s mother, I suppose,” Andy mused. “‘Cause I was thinking- do you think she’d like me? Not that I’m pushing to meet her, it’s just-”

Yvonne came to a sudden halt in the middle of the pavement, breaking him off mid-sentence. 

“Yvonne?” Andy stopped as well. “I don’t have to meet your mother. Honest. I’m fine just-”

She held up a hand and shushed him. “Listen.” 

Andy frowned and strained his ears. “I don’t h-” Suddenly, he did hear something. 

It was a soft, high-pitched keening sound. Andy had never heard anything like it.

Yvonne quickly started in the direction of the sound with Andy at her heels. They quickly followed the sound to its source and ended up at the entryway to a dead end alley. The keening sound was much louder now and Andy could finally see what was causing it. 

A large grey creature was standing halfway down the alley with its back to them. Large black spikes lined its back and they seemed to move, as if a strong breeze were ruffling them.

Andy wondered if all the alcohol he’d drank at the bar was taking its effect on him, but then remembered that Yvonne had heard and seen it, too. And she’d always, somehow, had a much higher tolerance for alcohol than he had. 

He imagined she could drink everyone he knew under the table. Except for maybe Jack because that man had an incredibly quick metabolism. 

Yvonne stepped into the alley and the creature immediately whirled around. Its sharp white teeth gleamed and it emitted the high keening sound as it took a step toward them. 

“Pass me the gun,” Yvonne muttered, not taking her eyes off the strange creature. 

“The gun?” Andy repeated dumbly. “What gun?”  
“The gun in my handbag,” Yvonne snapped. 

Andy hastily opened the tiny black thing and, sure enough, there was a tiny gun crammed between her phone and a tube of lipstick. Andy didn’t know they made guns that tiny and it immediately slipped from his grip. He fumbled to catch it and prayed that it wouldn’t go off and accidentally kill one of them. Obviously, the gun hadn’t been made with someone with his hand-size in mind. It probably also hadn’t been intended for use by drunks. 

He quickly passed it to her.

The creature was now three-quarters of the way to them and barring its very sharp teeth at them. 

“Andy, don’t panic. Stay behind me,” she ordered as she unlatched the safety. “Understand?” 

Andy let out a shaky breath. “Yes.” He took a step back, placing himself squarely behind Yvonne, while she began to take aim. 

She quickly fired off a shot. It went slightly wide and ricocheted off the alley’s wall. 

The creature roared, clearly enraged, and began to charge toward them. 

“Damn!” Yvonne hissed as she raised the gun again and let loose a few rounds of shots. 

This time she shot the thing square on several times and it fell to the ground with a dull thud. 

She walked over to it, the sound of her heels echoing in the deserted alley. 

“It’s dead,” she reported. 

Andy nodded mutely, his heart still racing, as he stood frozen to the spot. 

She walked back over to him, took her bag back, and flicked the safety back on and returned the gun to its place between the phone and the lipstick. 

“Are you alright?” Yvonne asked as she met Andy’s eyes. 

Andy swallowed and nodded as he noticed that some of the creature’s dark blue blood had splattered across Yvonne’s dress and a little had landed on her collarbone. “Yeah, yeah. You were… brilliant just now. And I-” he broke off with a derisive snort, “Oh, god! I stood there gawking like an idiot, didn’t I?” 

Her expression softened. “I’ve just had a lot of practice,” she replied. “And you weren’t “gawking like an idiot”. You handed me the gun, remember? I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Andy nodded miserably, knowing she was only saying so to be kind and not ruin the rest of the night anymore than it already had been. 

“Why don’t you check if any passerby has heard the shots? I don’t have any retcon so tell them we’re shooting a new science fiction film that they can see next summer. I’ll call someone in to deal with this.” She gestured to the creature’s body which had started to ooze dark blue blood.

Andy nodded and scanned the street for anyone who might have heard. After spreading the word of a new blockbuster set to hit theatres the following summer to a crowd of drunk uni students, Andy returned to the alley to find Yvonne wrapping up her phone call. 

“Thank you. I owe you one.” 

She ended the call and slipped her phone back into her bag. 

“Shall we-” 

Yvonne broke off into a violent fit of coughs and doubled over. 

“Yvonne?” Andy took a step forward. 

“I’m-” She coughed again. “Fine.” She coughed a few more times, but then waved him off as she caught her breath and straightened up. 

Andy studied her intently for a moment, making sure that she really was fine. “If you’re sure…” 

“London is a wonderful city,” Yvonne said, “but I’m afraid I’ve grown rather used to Cardiff’s air.”

Andy frowned, knowing full well that it wasn’t the air quality. He may not be the smartest on the force and he may have been more than a little drunk, but he certainly wasn’t dumb. And he liked to think that he knew Yvonne well. She smoked cigars like there was no tomorrow. If she was stressed, she’d light a cigar. If she was celebrating something, she’d light a cigar. If she was bored, she’d light a cigar. If she was tired, she’d light a cigar. No occasion was too small for Yvonne Hartman to light a cigar. 

London’s air pollution, to be fair, was quite bad. But it would still be nothing to her. 

Andy decided not to push it and, instead, offered her his hand. 

They walked the last two blocks back to the hotel hand in hand and, after they had returned to their room and showered, they crawled into bed. 

Andy leaned over to turn on the small, portable nightlight that he usually kept at his place for the nights when Yvonne stayed over. He shut off the bedside table light before settling down next to Yvonne and falling asleep to the smell of her shampoo and the comforting sound of her breathing in the near-darkness. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long!!! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

Before either of them knew it, it was Monday and they were headed back to Cardiff in the early hours of the morning. 

They’d managed to beat the morning traffic and had arrived in Cardiff by 5 which left both of them with plenty of time to go home, shower, change, and meet up by the bay for a quick coffee before Andy’s 6:30 am shift. 

Together, they sat on a bench, sipping their steaming coffees in the nearly deserted harbor, as the sun slowly rose. It was… normal. It was nice. It was something Yvonne had never really wanted or expected from life but, now that it was here, she wasn’t sure how she’d ever been without it.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Yvonne couldn’t help but notice how Andy’s hair caught the sunlight, resulting in a sort of halo. It was fitting, she supposed as she fondly watched him drink his coffee while he stared out across the bay. Andy, an angel.

She had never been particularly religious. Sure, she could recite a handful of scriptures and could pick out allusions in works of literature but she’d never exactly bought into it, though she understood why people did. Sometimes she wondered if she would have been more inclined to believe in that sort of thing had her father not believed in it. His beliefs had bordered on fanaticism and only deepened the divide between herself and him as she’d grown older.

“I had a lovely time this weekend,” Andy said suddenly, turning to meet her eyes and breaking the silence, saving her from her thoughts. 

Yvonne smiled. “I’m glad,” she said. Then, “I did, too.” 

He smiled back. “I’m glad,” he echoed. “We should go away more often.” 

“I’ll see what I can do, but you know Torchwood….” she said wryly. 

Andy laughed. “I suppose I do. It keeps you pretty busy….” He paused. Then, “We’re sober now.”

She nodded as she recalled their heated, drunken conversation about Andy’s involvement with Torchwood. “We are.” She took a deep breath to steel herself for this conversation. 

“You said joining was a death warrant,” Andy began. “Said it changed everyone and you implied that you’re going to die because of it.” 

“I-” she sighed, not really wanting to have this conversation but knowing that it was impossible to avoid it for any longer. “Yes, I did, Andrew.” 

“Well, how can you know any of that?” Andy asked. “And, if it’s changing you, if you’re going to die because of it, why don’t you leave?” 

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Isn’t it? It’s not like they’re holding a gun to your head and keeping you there, is it?” he demanded.

Yvonne snorted. “No, they’re not. And, even if they were…” 

“Even if they were, you wouldn’t be phased,” Andy finished with a slight smile. 

“It’s not that. I... have a duty, Andy. It’s-it’s all I have.” 

Andy frowned at that. “Yvonne-”

But she held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say:  _ I have you. I have Jack, Ng, Gwen, Orr, and all the rest of them. I belong here, even though it isn’t my world. I have years of my life left.  _ But none of that matters.” 

Andy recoiled at her words as if she had struck him. 

“Oh, Andy! I- You matter to me. Of course you do.” She softened. “But if I don’t do my job, none of us would be here and it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

“Why’s it have to be your job?” 

“Have you seen how Jack was running the place?” she countered with a raised eyebrow. “It’s a miracle this city has made it this long with him at the helm.”

“Fair point,” Andy said. “I just- I want you to value your life more than your duty. I want you to see the value in just  _ being _ , whether you’re saving the world or not. Whether you’re running Torchwood or not. Isn’t life enough?” 

“And I could say the exact same things to you every time you try to join! Why are you so insistent on joining Torchwood, Andy? What is it that has driven you, for over a decade, if I’ve heard right, to continuously seek out employment at Torchwood? Why isn’t it enough to be you? Because you are  _ brilliant _ , you know?” she said, recalling a late-night conversation she’d had over a glass of champagne with Norton about Andy. 

“I want to help,” Andy said after a moment. “Torchwood would let me do that on a larger scale. You say that doing your duty gives you a sense of worth and I-I want that. I want to matter and I can do that through helping others.” 

She frowned. “Andy…” 

“Don’t Andy me with that tone, Yvonne,” he snapped then he sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I just- we’re really the same, aren’t we?” he said rather miserably.

“I suppose we are,” Yvonne agreed. “As much as I abhor the idea of you joining, I understand why you want to. I’ll talk it over with Jackand we’ll see where we go from there, alright?” 

“Alright,” Andy said. “Thank you, Yvonne.” 

She nodded. 

“I should go,” Andy said before draining the remainder of his coffee. 

They shared a quick peck on the lips and said goodbye. 

Yvonne stayed seated on the bench for a few minutes longer, watching as the sun fully emerged. 

Cardiff had grown on her in a way she’d never expected. Sure, it wasn’t London. It would never be and it rained a  _ truly _ extraordinary amount but… it wasn’t all that bad. 

She glanced at her watch, sighed, stood, and started to make her way to the Hub. 

* * *

“How was your weekend in London?” Norton asked from his position at a computer bank as Yvonne entered the Hub. 

“Lovely,” she said as she crossed the Hub toward her desk. The sound of her heels echoed across the cavernous space. 

“Glad to hear.” Jack emerged from the kitchen, clutching his striped mug. 

“Since I didn’t hear from you, I assume nothing too eventful happened?” Yvonne asked as she draped her jacket over the back of her desk’s chair.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Jack assured her. “Actually, the rift was pretty quiet.” 

And at that, the alarm started to go off. 

Jack laughed as he set his mug down on the counter. “Guess I shouldn’t have said that.” 

Yvonne sighed as she reached for her jacket again. Never a dull moment at Torchwood.

“There’s a rift spike in Butetown at Loudoun Square,” Norton informed them. 

“Alright, Jack and I will go deal with that,” Yvonne said as she removed the comms device from the charger on her desk. “We’ll talk with you on the comms. Orr has the day off but Ng and St. John should be in any minute now so we’ll let you know if we need backup.” 

Norton nodded and Jack and Yvonne headed out to the SUV. 


End file.
